


asphyxiation

by vonseal



Series: garlic and blood (and a bit of love) [1]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, Domestic, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Smut, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: bin is a vampire with an addiction to garlic.myungjun is a vampire hunter with an abundance of garlic.





	asphyxiation

**Author's Note:**

> so papillion87 came out with a vampire fic and i thought, "it would be a great idea to steal THAT idea and make it my own." ([but seriously, please read her fic first](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209156/chapters/47889031))
> 
> all of the warnings are up in the tags. don't read if you dont like vampires and sex because this is a fic of vampires and sex.

Bin looked at himself in his grimy mirror. His hat was new. He thought he looked rather dashing. “Hello, Bin,” he greeted, tipping his hat to his reflection. “You look absolutely delightful today. But, then again, you look absolutely delightful everyday.” 

Self-confidence was the key to a long and happy existence, so Bin believed. Without the narcissistic personality he so treasured, he knew he would have given up long ago. He would have allowed one of the vampire hunters in Seoul to strike him down, or else a fellow vampire. Death by a fellow vampire wouldn’t be a difficult way to go. They would suck his blood and drain him dry, but it would be _ so _ euphoric the whole time. 

As it was, Bin was very much alive, and very much glad to be alive. He was too handsome to be dead, after all. Such a waste for such a beautiful face. No, he belonged to this world, in the center of it all, where everyone had the opportunity to lay eyes upon him.

He tapped his new hat and smiled again. His fangs were barely noticeable, and he nodded. He refused to run into any vampire hunters tonight. Tonight was about him and whatever dinner he could find. Man or woman, child or adult, he wouldn’t mind. He had gone for too long without eating and so his body craved the delicious taste of blood.

With one last check in the mirror, he was ready to go. He grabbed his overcoat and a walking cane and hurried out of the door.

The air was clear and nice outside. Nighttime meant less people; less people meant he could breathe easier. He wasn’t constricted by the suffocating stench of too many souls in one area. Perhaps he should have thought of the consequences that living in New York would entail for his sense of smell, but he liked New York. New York was exciting. It wasn’t much like Korea at all. It was interesting and different, and while people did find him a little odd and eccentric, he had never regretted moving. 

Besides, if people became too rude, they also became dinner.

Outside, the sky was growing dark. A man stood near a street lamp, readying to light it, and when he noticed Bin, he smiled. “Good evening, Mr. Moon!” was his greeting.

Bin smiled graciously and gave a small bow of his head. “Good evening to you as well, Mr. Turner. I see you are a bit behind on your lamps today. Are the kids keeping you busy?”

“Quite,” the man replied with a laugh. “I’m looking forward to seeing kids fill _ your _ home. You have such a large, lovely apartment but no one to share it with. It must be lonely.”

Bin retained his smile. The conversation amused him. “Sometimes it is. However, I do well on my own. In fact, I thrive on my own. I have no woman to weigh me down and no children to look after. My nights are my own; and my night belongs to the bar.”

Mr. Turner scoffed as he lit the street lamp. “Do you have similar bars in Korea?”

“Not exactly. America is a beast of its own; New York is in the belly of the beast. Exciting, isn’t it?”

“New York _ is _ exciting. My god, though, I still can’t get over how fluent you are in English. It’s like talking to a native! Do they have schools in Korea?”

Mr. Turner was a sweet man. Had he not befriended Bin, however, Bin wouldn’t hesitate to drain him of his blood.

“Schools exist everywhere in the world, Mr. Turner,” Bin said with a good-natured wink. “Might do well to open a book one day.” 

As Mr. Turner cheerfully protested Bin’s anger, Bin turned and walked away. He didn’t feel like engaging in the sort of teasing and mockery that Mr. Turner preferred. His mind was set on drinks in a small, shady bar with similarly shady people who wouldn’t be missed by anyone else in society. 

And perhaps, while he was out, he could eat some garlic pasta from the nearby restaurant. 

Most restaurants were lax on their usage of garlic. It was a simple seasoning, they had decided. It was not to be used to make actual dishes with. Bin disagreed, however. The smell of garlic was overly enticing, and after a bit of trial and error, he had soon realized that garlic tasted perfect with just about anything. Pasta, sandwiches, roasts, potatoes, and vegetables all fared better to his taste when he dumped garlic all over them.

There was an issue, however, that being his dreadful allergy to garlic. Vampires were always allergic to garlic, and he was no exception. Vampire hunters often used garlic as a means to ward vampires from certain areas, or else as a way to make vampires suffer and suffocate. Too much garlic resulted in a slow, painful death. The throat closed up and it was difficult to breathe. Skin burned and peeled, as if hit by too much sunlight, and vampires would try to call for help only to find there _ was _ no help.

Garlic killed, and vampires stayed away.

But Bin _ liked _ garlic. From the moment he met his first vampire hunter and accidentally ingested the spice, he had been addicted. Sure, in mass quantities it was deadly, but a plate of garlic pasta here and there would only cause him to cough and gag and struggle to breathe, all of which he could sleep off. Besides, he had discovered a remedy for such reactions, and he carried it with him at all times. Sugar pills were useful in reducing the strength of his garlic allergy. He wasn’t sure how, nor was he aware of the science behind it, but eating sugar right after a meal of garlic stopped his throat from swelling and made things all the more bearable. 

So he would attain sustenance at the bar, and after he disposed of whatever body he drained, he would make his way to his favorite restaurant and request a large helping of pasta and garlic.

He had a little skip in his step as he walked, excited at the prospect of being so delightfully full. It had been a while since he had truly eaten, and the smell of blood had become overwhelming.

The bar, fortunately, was rather full. Guests of all sorts had taken off their coats and were drinking to high heaven, or else engaging in intellectual small-talk with drunk friends. Bin scoffed, a smile on his face, and chose a seat at the counter.

The bartender greeted him. They had become friends, due to Bin’s frequency of visiting the location and his endless ability to drink. He supplied the bar with good money — plus a little extra to turn a blind eye when a fellow bar patron turned up dead the next day.

“A lagar, if you don’t mind,” he ordered, and as his drink was being poured, he took a second to look around and the guests. Who would sate his hunger tonight? Who would be an (un)willing participant in his quest for survival?

Beside him sat a young Asian man with loose suspenders and a too-big shirt tucked haphazardly into dirty trousers. He wasn’t the usual clientele Bin liked to look at. Bin liked pretty things, like his upstairs Korean neighbor or the girl across the street who was definitely in the midst of a passionate love affair with four other men. This man looked scruffy, and far too curious for his own good.

Before Bin could completely disregard him, however, he caught a whiff of the man’s scent.

Garlic.

He smelled like garlic. Bin’s mouth began to water, and he quickly turned back to the bar and grabbed his prepared drink to mask the smell. Why did the man smell like garlic so much? Was he knowledgeable about vampires? Was he trying to ward vampires away? He didn’t look as rough or shady as a vampire hunter, but there was a possibility he _ was _ one.

Bin made up his mind. He wanted to drink that man’s blood.

It was very likely that the man had just consumed garlic. If that was the case, if Bin drank his blood, he could knock out two birds with one stone. He would feast on blood _ and _ garlic, and then he could go home early for the evening. It was a wonderful concept, and Bin smiled as he gulped down his beer.

When finished, he wiped at his lips and turned to the young man beside him. “Good evening,” he greeted, tipping his hat ever so slightly. “What has brought you to such a place as this?”

The man blinked, and then, in heavily-accented English, responded, “Good evening.”

He didn’t answer the question, leading Bin to assume he was a recent immigrant. Cute. Bin smiled wider.

The bartender tapped Bin’s shoulder, however, interrupting what was about to be a seductive speech. “He’s not from here,” the bartender whispered.

Bin raised his eyebrows. “Insightful.”

“I’m just saying, I think he’s Chinese or Japanese or something.”

“You know, there are many different Asian locations to choose from. It’s not just divided into China and Japan.”

The man spoke up, hearing words familiar to him. “Not Chinese,” he said, shaking his head. “Not Japanese.”

“You see that,” Bin told the bartender, smiling wider. “He’s neither Chinese nor Japanese.”

“I speak English,” the man continued, in such broken English that it was difficult to understand him. Bin find him delightfully adorable. “I am Korean.”

Korean. Bin was definitely more familiar with Korean than he was any other Asian language. This should be easier. 

Ignoring the bartender’s watchful gaze, Bin switched to his native tongue and asked, “You can hardly speak English, love, so what’s brought you to New York?”

The man looked shocked that Bin knew Korean, but he quickly shook his head and replied, also in Korean, “My job. Why are you so curious, anyway?”

His voice was much more melodic now that he spoke something familiar. It was higher-pitched than Bin would’ve guessed, and louder, too, but still oddly beautiful to listen to.

But listening was not why Bin struck up a conversation with him. He only wanted one thing: blood.

Though, if he could fuck this Korean man before sucking him dry, then his day would be infinitely better. He hadn’t a good fuck in a long while.

To answer the man’s question, Bin shrugged his shoulders. “I’m making small talk. You’ve heard of such a thing, haven’t you? It’s a casual discussion made in order to exchange ideas or information of each other. For example, my job entails writing poetry for the newspaper. I’ve been published in _ The Evening Post _ , _ The New York Tribune _, the—”

“I didn’t ask.” The man took a large gulp of his beer. His cheeks were pink. He had likely been drinking for a while. That was even better, for Bin’s purposes, and he scooted his chair closer in order to examine the boy a bit better.

“You’re a handsome, young thing. What’s your name?”

The man grimaced. He kept his eyes averted. “Again, why are you so curious?”

“Well, it’s not often I meet another Korean. Typically, the Asians that come by are Chinese or Japanese; as such, most Americans believe there to be only two types of Asian. This is quite a welcome surprise, and I would like it if we can be friends.” Bin’s eyes twinkled as he leaned all the closer to the man, who leaned away in turn. “And if we become a little extra, I won’t complain.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying?”

Bin scoffed. “Oh, come. I know from experience that you must not receive much action. The ladies around these parts prefer to be with one of their own, and even if they enjoy intermingling amongst the races, they prefer their partner to speak English. You do not speak English, and so you must not have engaged in sexual intercourse in quite some time.”

The man’s expression did not change. He wrinkled his nose and sipped at his beer again. “You’re crude.”

“Yes, but I speak the truth.”

“As if I would fuck a man, anyway.”

Bin laughed. He took a few dollars from his pocket and passed them over to the bartender as the man watched him curiously. “There is a small room down the hallway of the bar. Over there.” Bin pointed. The man’s eyes followed his finger. “It’s indiscreet, and I’m allowed back there while others are not. If you have within you some pent-up sexual frustration, then you may come to the back. I will relieve you. I will learn your name, too, for I do not fuck without a name.”

“But I—”

“Shh.” Bin held the finger up to his lips and smiled. He needn’t hear excuses. They were useless to him. Either the man would come for a fuck or he wouldn’t and Bin would have to find some other poor soul to murder. He winked and then strode to the back, making certain to fix the hat upon his head so he could look as dashing as possible.

He only had to wait for a couple minutes, loitering right outside of the storage room door. He had plenty of time to think through his plan as he stared at a single candlestick lighting the hallway. He would ensure that sex went smoothly and quickly. He hoped he could be a little rough; the man looked small, but surely he was feisty enough to take it hard. Then, as they neared completion, he would bite into the man’s neck and suck out his blood.

That sweet, glorious blood that would likely taste of garlic.

One hand palmed the front of his pants; the other reached into the pocket of his coat to ensure his sugar pills were with him. They were, and so Bin continued to masturbate until he saw the man walking down the hallway. He quickly moved his hand away and grinned. “You couldn’t resist,” he teased.

The man rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he snapped. “This means absolutely nothing. It’s only because the whores in New York are just like you said; racist.”

“Now, I didn’t say _ racist _. They just harbor distrust to those not of their own race.”

“So, racist.”

Bin didn’t care what they were. All he cared about was that the man was clearly desperate. His eyes were dark and his breathing was labored. Those drinks had gotten to him. Either that, or he was hornier than Bin had assumed.

“What’s your name, then?” Bin asked, opening the door to the storage room and ushering the man inside. He lit the lantern hanging on the wall, and once they were cast with an eerie glow, he closed the door behind them and barred it.

“I’m Kim Myungjun,” said the man.

Now that he had a name, Bin no longer had to wait. He spun to face Myungjun and wrapped his arms around the smaller, lithe body. “A beautiful name for a beautiful man,” he murmured. “I am Moon Bin; if you are to scream my name, please keep it short. _ Bin _ will do just fine. I’d love to hear your pretty voice scream out my name.”

“God, you’re an ass,” was the response he was given before he swiftly captured Myungjun’s lips in a crushing kiss.

He _ did _ taste of garlic, and it was enticing. Bin knew he chose the right candidate. He tilted Myungjun’s head as they kissed, keeping it chaste only for a brief moment before sticking his tongue inside. He explored Myungjun’s mouth, inhaled Myungjun’s taste. His tongue rubbed against Myungjun’s tongue, and the boy moaned in his arms. 

Bin sucked on his tongue for a second or two before tugging at the bottom of Myungjun’s shirt. He pulled it loose from the trousers and ran his fingers along the exposed skin he found. Myungjun gasped out, then grinded against Bin.

Myungjun had a certain expertise about him, and Bin figured he certainly wasn’t a virgin to homosexual sex. Not with the way he rutted his hips up against Bin’s own, not with the way his own hand moved down to dip into Bin’s pants and grasp a hold of his cock.

Bin took a moment to breathe. The kiss was intense. That alone, coupled with Myungjun’s hand, could make him cum. “Darling, you’re impressive. I thought you were a shy virgin. I wasn’t aware you were a dirty whore.”

Myungjun scoffed and returned to kissing Bin, saying nothing in response. That just solidified Bin’s belief in Myungjun’s sexuality, and he smiled into the kiss.

It was a wild kiss. It was a wet kiss. Bin felt Myungjun’s saliva across his cheek and his chin. The garlic, too, was overwhelming. His throat was already rather scratchy, and he hoped it wouldn’t swell just yet. Not until he was finished and rid of Myungjun’s cute, soft body.

He shoved Myungjun into the wall. The boy moaned when Bin’s knee hit his cock, and Bin, between kisses, asked, “You like that, you filthy whore?”

“More,” Myungjun begged. “Do it again.”

And so Bin did, relishing in the cries Myungjun gave. He was tempted to pull down Myungjun’s pants, maybe suck his cock for a while (and hopefully ask where he had eaten garlic), but then Myungjun suddenly shifted. The boy reached down and pulled a knife from his boot, then shoved it against Bin’s neck.

Bin blinked. “Ah,” he said, as if things made sense, though he was very much confused. “What’s this? It’s not a kink of mine, love. Bloodplay is gross.”

It was a lie. He loved blood. Blood made him go wild. He just didn’t like _ his _ blood very much; and, besides, Myungjun would get quite a shock if he stabbed through Bin’s neck and found that Bin couldn’t die.

Myungjun’s eyes, once cesspools of lust and desire, had hardened. He held Bin’s hands tightly and then gestured, with his head, off to the side. Bin glanced over.

A mirror. Of course. His clothes were visible, but his physical self was absent from the reflection.

“You know,” he murmured, still feeling his erection pushing against his trousers. Myungjun certainly did a number on him, “I have a mirror at home. It’s made of tin coating, which works almost as well as the silver used—”

“Shut up,” Myungjun hissed, jostling Bin slightly. “You’re a fucking vampire, aren’t you?”

Only few knew of vampires. Only few, too, knew of how mirrors and vampires were connected, and only few had the foresight to carry with them a silver knife.

Which was what Myungjun held in his hand.

Suddenly, it made sense. The _ garlic _, especially, made sense. “And you are a vampire hunter, aren’t you?”

Myungjun swallowed thickly. “So this was a trick to suck my blood, was it? Do you always fuck your victims?”

“I do. Most vampires do not. I enjoy the thrills offered to me, however, and most of my victims are _ so _ easy. You were very easy—”

Myungjun kicked Bin’s shin. Bin hissed, then asked, “Did you know I was a vampire the whole time?”

“No,” Myungjun replied. “But the mirror is clear enough to me.” He narrowed his eyes, peering at Bin in the dim lighting. “Did the garlic not work on you?”

“Oh, it did.” Bin coughed. His throat hurt. He hoped it would stop swelling soon, now that he was no longer ingesting garlic. “Smart move, by the way. It would ward off most vampires.”

Myungjun cocked his head. “And why were you not warded off?”

“I am not most vampires. I am above them! I am far loftier—”

Myungjun let the knife barely pierce Bin’s skin. Bin winced and said, “I am a masochist. I love the taste of garlic. It’s an addiction, I think.”

“You’re fucking mad.”

“Yes, I know. But, really, can you deny how lovely garlic tastes on just about everything? Potatoes, beef, any vegetable, rice—”

Myungjun was small. Myungjun was skinny. He wasn’t as fast as vampires, nor was he as tricky. It didn’t take much effort for Bin to maneuver out of Myungjun’s grasp and push the boy aside.

Bin had to give him credit, though; he only stumbled slightly before he slashed his knife where Bin was. Bin moved, ducking and dodging, until he was able to grasp onto Myungjun’s wrist and stop the silver knife from causing anymore damage.

“Let _ go _,” Myungjun snapped.

“I don’t think so. You may have deprived me of a fuck, but I will get a snack tonight, at least.”

“I’ll give you garlic if you let go.”

He had Bin’s attention. Bin perked up, his eyebrows raised, and asked, “Really? This isn’t some sort of elaborate trick?”

Myungjun scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Garlic is your _ enemy _, you slob. Why are you taking that bribe seriously?”

“Well, I’m hungry. And I guess I need blood, but I’m mostly hungry for garlic, so I’m a little conflicted—”

He couldn’t get another word in, though, for Myungjun pulled garlic from his pocket, and with no hesitation, stuffed it into Bin’s open mouth.

That alone was enough to make Bin cough and gasp. His throat was closing up; he could feel himself suffocating. But, _ god _, the garlic was good and he didn’t want to spit it out. It tasted like everything he had dreamed of. He wished he could continue eating it forever and ever—

Myungjun’s knife came down. Bin jumped aside, and then, as fast as he could, unlocked the door and stumbled from the room. He could hear Myungjun running after him, but he could barely even breathe. As they ran through the bar, Bin coughing and sputtering and Myungjun chasing him, eyes were on them. A few people yelled out in shock. The bartender bellowed something, but Bin couldn’t hear through the sound of himself choking.

He rifled through his coat pocket, desperate for relief, until he finally found his sugar pill. The garlic was spit out and he stuck the pill in his mouth instead, swallowing quickly in an effort to rid the garlic before it truly did kill him.

Fortunately, that seemed to do the trick. He dodged Myungjun’s knife once more, and as the boy caught his breath, Bin sputtered, “You’ve done well, love, and I hope to truly fuck and kill you one day.”

Then he ran. He was faster than Myungjun, better able to hide amongst the shadows, and he lost the younger man rather fast. The swelling in his throat was reduced, and he was able to breathe normally again after a few minutes.

He still wanted to jerk off. “A masochist, really,” he muttered to himself, fixing his hair and his hat. He loved men who were feisty. He also loved men who smelled of garlic and made him bleed. Too bad he wasn’t able to feed on such a man.

Instead, he chose poor Mr. Turner, who met him again near his house and said, “You look as if you had a rowdy evening; are there Chinese prostitutes? I’d love to meet one.”

“Poor Mr. Turner,” was Bin’s reply, as he grabbed him and dragged him down an alleyway to feast. Poor Mr. Turner didn’t fight back much. He was dead within minutes. 

As Bin disposed of poor Mr. Turner’s dead and disgustingly drained body, he sighed in sadness. “I miss my Myungjun,” he muttered to the corpse before tossing it down the Hudson River.

* * *

Someone was out to replace poor Mr. Turner. Mr. Harper, his name was, John Harper. 

“The other man went missing,” Mr. Harper explained, his eyes wide with intrigue. He had a nice mustache. Bin like his mustache. “He was out here lighting the streets, and he just vanished.”

“Intriguing,” Bin responded, though it wasn’t really. “Mysterious.”

Mr. Harper nodded his head, agreeing with Bin’s assessment of the situation. “Perhaps he will turn up again soon. I hope he hasn’t been murdered. It’s frightening, thinking of a murderer roaming our streets in the middle of the night.”

Bin turned the collar up on his coat to ward off the cold. Technically, he hadn’t committed the murder at midnight. Technically, he murdered Mr. Turner a couple of minutes after eight, but he wasn’t going to admit to that. If he admitted to it, then he would have to kill Mr. Harper, as well. 

“Well, I’d be very happy if you kept yourself safe, Mr. Harper,” Bin stated, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. “The streets of New York are best when they’re well-lit, and there’s no one better for the job than you.”

Mr. Harper scoffed and shook his head. “You give me too much credit!” he exclaimed before returning to his task.

“Mm, I do,” Bin muttered to himself. He began to walk away once he lit his cigarette, smoking and frowning as he contemplated his next victim.

He could always return to the bar. However, after his botched dinner, he felt it best to stay away, at least for a while. He was humiliated that he was deceived in such a manner and bested by a hunter. While the time he spent with Myungjun was likely worth it, and the garlic he received was _ definitely _ worth it, he couldn’t help but feel like a silly vampire for caving to such trickery.

Regardless, not the bar. Too many questions would be asked, so even if Bin wasn’t embarrassed, he would be overwhelmed with talk. Perhaps he could try another bar in the area, but he was worried he would be subjected to more scrutiny. He got away with it at his usual haunt because he could pay off personnel, but if he didn’t know the owners then he couldn’t pay them off as well.

Nightclubs, then, were his other option. Operating beyond the law, they offered degeneracy beyond most imaginations. Such sinful, lustful places, those nightclubs were, and no one would ever miss a patron or two. Bin smirked as he dropped the cigarette and put it out with his nice loafers. He hadn’t had sex in a few days; he had only masturbated by himself in the lonesome of his bedroom, thoughts of Myungjun on his mind. He could break this dry spell and obtain some blood while he was at it.

He turned the corner, a little more cheerful, but then the scent of something familiar hit his nose.

He inhaled. He could smell the tobacco smoke lingering to his own clothes, but there was a stronger scent, too. 

“Garlic?” he whispered, adjusting the hat on his head.

He licked at his lips. Garlic had been his downfall just days prior, thanks to Myungjun and his smart tricks. Bin should’ve known better than to chase after a substance that could become his demise, but Bin felt that garlic surpassed all chances of death. Garlic was too delicious to pass up on.

The nightclub could wait. He had to follow the scent.

As he walked, he checked his pockets again. The sugar pills were replenished, and he felt confident enough that he could consume garlic, make himself well, and then find a nightclub patron to feast on. The night would go by without an issue as long as he remained cautious.

The garlic was stronger as he neared another corner. It was dark along the street, with no one else nearby, and perhaps that ought to raise his suspicions. 

“Cautious, Bin,” he reminded himself, pausing just before he hit the corner. He checked behind him, then to his side.

Why was he smelling garlic when no one else was nearby?

Just as he began to wonder if his nose was working correctly, he saw a flash of silver, and he jumped high in the air, landing gracefully a few feet back.

In front of him stood Myungjun, grasping with one hand onto a clove of garlic and the other hand onto his silver knife.

“You’re a fucking _ idiot _,” Myungjun snapped. “You really fell for it again?”

Bin pursed his lips. Seeing Myungjun made his heart race. He was the cutest vampire hunter ever. The smartest, too, and the best kisser — though, he was the only hunter Bin had ever kissed.

“In my defense, I wasn’t aware that it was you this time,” he countered.

“You shouldn’t be going after garlic at _ all! _” Myungjun exclaimed. “God, you have a death wish, don’t you?”

Bin shrugged and smiled toothily, wondering if Myungjun could spot his fangs. “I didn’t die last time, obviously, and so I doubt I would’ve died this time. If it was something like garlic potatoes or garlic pork, then I—”

Myungjun snorted. “Why would someone be making garlic potatoes out on this empty street?” he asked.

It was a good question. Bin nodded his head, admitting defeat. “Yes, well, I thought that, too, just a minute ago, which is why I stopped. It’s a good thing, too, for if I took another step then you would have gotten me.”

Myungjun gripped his knife a little tighter. “So I almost killed you?” he asked, as if searching for approval.

Bin wanted to give him approval. He clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Bravo! You were so close to murdering me! I’m impressed!”

“Oh, don’t be patronizing. You’re an ass, Bin.”

“You remembered my name, too. Touching.” Bin tipped his hat as if greeting Myungjun, then said, “I must be leaving, though. I have blood to drink tonight at the nightclub nearby. Have you been? You are welcome to tag along, though if you do, I will likely jump you before we get there. Your blood must be delightful.”

“Smart move, telling me when you’d kill me.”

“Rats, I hoped you wouldn’t notice.” Bin smiled brightly. “Well, then—” he started, but Myungjun rushed at him then, slicing at the air with his knife. Bin, not (yet) choking on garlic, easily dodged it. Vampires were quick; Myungjun couldn’t match his speed. “What caused you to become a vampire hunter, anyway, love? You’re far too small and cute for such a career.”

Myungjun tried to stab him this time. Bin sidestepped that attack. “I don’t have to answer shit,” Myungjun snapped. “Hold still.”

“I actually prefer _ not _ being stabbed today. Just a personal preference.”

Still, despite Bin’s rejections, Myungjun kept coming at him. It was fun, amusing, really, and Bin was having the time of his life.

All good things had to come to an end, and this was no different. Bin’s hunger for blood outweighed his amusement, and so he finally managed to grab Myungjun’s wrist, effectively stopping him.

Myungjun stared with wide eyes as Bin pulled him close.

“What say we end this nonsense and pick up from where we last left off, hmm?”

The man pulled in his grasp. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to have sex with you _ now! _”

Bin blinked innocently. “Why not?” he questioned. “We obviously have much sexual tension we should try our best to alleviate.”

“_ Sexual…? _” Myungjun tried to tug his arm free. “Let me go, you freak!”

Bin did not let him go, though. Instead, Bin held him close and kissed him, open-mouthed and desperate, just as they had been that night together. Myungjun gasped into his mouth, then struggled more.

Finally, he did give in. He kissed back with the same ferocity, and Bin felt like he had died and gone to heaven. Surely it was heaven; a man this wonderful couldn’t make him go to hell, in any case.

Bin’s hands traveled down until he was able to squeeze Myungjun’s ass. Myungjun gave a start, but otherwise didn’t move from the kiss.

That was confirmation, then, to do whatever he wanted. Bin pulled back, a string of saliva connecting their lips, and whispered, “Get on all fours. I want to pound into you so hard.”

Myungjun was delightfully flushed. He wiped at his mouth and murmured, “I wanted to try something first.”

“Mm, anything.”

Myungjun reached below his waist line. Bin licked at his lips and asked, “Can I suck your dick? I would love to do that.”

He didn’t receive a response. Instead, Myungjun pulled something from his pocket and stuffed it into Bin’s mouth.

Garlic.

It tasted _ good _. Maybe not as good as Myungjun was likely to taste, but it was still delicious. It also made Bin’s throat swell, and he felt his airways begin to close.

“Oh my god,” he heard Myungjun scoff. “You fell for it _ again? _”

He had to leave. It was unfortunate, but in his weakened state, he couldn’t stick around Myungjun’s side. He didn’t want to die, after all. So he ran, just as he had those few weeks ago, coughing and sputtering and desperately searching for his sugar pill. He had to wait a few minutes for his body to recover after the sugar pill was consumed, and then he checked his surroundings.

Myungjun hadn’t chased him down.

Myungjun hadn’t followed him.

Myungjun wasn’t hunting him.

“Ah,” Bin muttered to himself, clearing his throat and fixing his lopsided hat. “The boy must really like me.”

Which was fine, but Bin was still determined to fuck him and drink his blood. Though, he supposed if it was a really _ good _ fuck, he wouldn’t drink Myungjun’s blood. He would keep him around, instead. They could run into each other again and again and again.

Bin walked to the nightclub to kill a prostitute, and he couldn’t stop smiling the entire time.

* * *

He was well fed, thanks to the degenerates that roamed the streets of New York. No one ever missed the poor and downtrodden, or else the overly drunk or sexual. While feeding had been a bit easier in the villages of Korea, Bin couldn’t complain; New York policemen weren’t good at their jobs. They didn’t patrol as often as they should have, and when they received reports of missing persons, they all but ignored them, unless they were wealthy.

It was a simple enough task; choose someone, drink of their blood, and then dump their ruined body somewhere it might not be found. 

The Hudson River was often a good choice for his murdered victims. The river was large and long. It emptied into the sea, too, or so Bin assumed, anyway. None of his victims that were tossed into the Hudson had yet been found. Otherwise, he would either be forced to bury the bodies or burn them. Tossing them was less effort.

Bin threw the body he held into the river. It was that of a young man; Italian, Bin presumed, or perhaps a man from Spain. Regardless, he was very unwilling, and so Bin had to hurry to kill him.

His blood wasn’t the best Bin had. It was the equivalent of eating a mushy stew for dinner; not tasty, but something to fill the stomach.

He watched the body float downstream, and he lit a cigarette as he did so. Such a sad sight, really. Sometimes the humans he murdered had such great potential.

The one he _ just _ killed did not, but some of them did.

He turned around, cigarette between his fingers, and caught sight of someone watching him.

Someone who smelled of garlic.

“Oh!” Bin exclaimed, waving a hand. “Myungjun, welcome!”

“Did you just dump a body?” Myungjun asked with morbid fascination.

Bin nodded his head. “Yes. Fortunately, it’s a dead body.”

Myungjun didn’t respond to that. Instead, he reached into the waistband of his pants, pulling out the silver dagger Bin had become familiar with. He removed the scabbard from it and snapped, “The punishment for murder is nothing to scoff at, Bin. And when the murderer is a vampire, then typical punishments will not work. Perhaps you need something a little more drastic to remind you that murder is not acceptable.”

Bin scoffed. “You’re not going to use that on me again,” he fussed. “And you can’t do the trick with the garlic again. I know better now, Myungjun.”

Myungjun’s jaw was tight. He narrowed his eyes and appeared threatening, but then Bin noticed that he was shuffling his feet and taking deep breaths. He was nervous, for some reason, though Bin was not certain why. Myungjun was smart and capable, and he had bested Bin both times they met. Why was he now suddenly difference? Why was he nervous?

“What’s wrong, love?” Bin asked, stepping closer. Myungjun smelled better up close, anyway. He had a unique scent of garlic, and human blood, and whatever cologne it was he was using.

Well, the cologne smelled cheap, but the rest of him was delectable. 

Myungjun kept his eyes on Bin. “Stop calling me love,” he demanded, “especially when I’m going to kill you.”

But his grip on the knife was loose. He was cautious, but not aggressive. It was a curious thing, and Bin cocked his head.

Myungjun wasn’t going to attack him.

Despite the act Myungjun was putting on, he could detect no actual threat. Perhaps Myungjun’s sudden nerves had something to do with his hesitation, or perhaps it was something else. Bin couldn’t tell. He stepped closer, still, and yet Myungjun made no move for an attack.

Bin decided to wager his life. “Kill me, then.”

“I _ will _,” Myungjun replied. He moved the knife to his other hand and took a deep breath. “After all, I have caught you in the act of murder, and I should react accordingly.”

Still, he did not move. Bin was only a few feet away, and Myungjun made no movement to him.

“Myungjun, you’re not good at being a vampire hunter.”

“Shut up!” Myungjun fussed. “I’ve almost killed you twice now! I can easily kill you now, but I...I want something from you.”

“Yeah?” Bin smirked. “What’s that?”

Myungjun took one last deep breath and then spilled his secret and hidden desires. “I want you to suck my dick.”

Out of all things Bin had been expecting, _ that _ was not one of them. Myungjun had sexually responded the first time they met, sure, but the second time had been a trick. Why would he want to involve himself with a vampire in such a carnal manner?

Bin gestured to the surroundings, to the darkness and the river and the dead body still meandering down the waters. “_ Here? _” he asked. “Really?”

“You mentioned it previously. You said you would like to. And before I kill you, I want to see how good you really are. Besides, you also mentioned, the first time we met, that I was most likely sexually frustrated. There are no women willing to allow me to fuck them; the men are even less rare. I’m an immigrant who can’t speak English, and I carry knives and garlic and holy water.”

Bin raised his eyebrows. “You have holy water?” he asked.

Myungjun ignored that question. “I’d like to finally have some sort of relief, and I think it’s a good enough punishment for you before I kill you.”

Bin thought so, too. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “After I’m done, please kill me by feeding me garlic. My death will be euphoric.” 

“You’re a fucking moron,” Myungjun mumbled, but then he took charge. He pulled his suspender straps from his shoulders, letting them fall to his side, and then worked on unbuttoning his trousers. “Get on your knees, filthy whore, and let’s finish this.”

Myungjun was the most interesting vampire hunter Bin had ever met. Normally, he would contemplate such a request. Normally, he would wonder if it was all some sort of elaborate trap.

But then Myungjun pulled his pants down, displaying a nude lower half.

It wasn’t a joke, then. Myungjun really _ did _ want his dick sucked.

“Happy to oblige,” Bin said, with a grin on his face. He first put out his cigarette, flicking it behind him into the water, and then did as Myungjun ordered, dropping to his knees and shuffling forward to close the gap between them.

He was a great lover, he liked to think. He was sensual and slow and consistent. His steadiness put his victims at ease before he struck, and he preferred them calm and compliant. 

However, Myungjun had managed to erase all _ thoughts _ of being a great lover out of his mind. All Bin wanted was to taste him, and so he only spent a moment or two jerking Myungjun off and listening to him breathe before he wrapped his lips around the tip of Myungjun’s cock.

Myungjun gave a start, but Bin placed his hands on the human’s hips, holding him still. He took Myungjun in deeper and deeper until the cock hit the back of his throat.

He didn’t gag. He was proud of himself for that. Surely Myungjun must have never experienced such a person before, someone who could practically swallow a dick without even gagging.

Even so, as deep as he was, Myungjun grabbed at his hair and tried to push himself further into Bin. “More,” Myungjun gasped, thrusting forward.

So Bin gave him more. He allowed Myungjun to use him and abuse him. Saliva ran down his chin, but Bin didn’t even bother to swipe it away. He thought it made it all the better, and he hoped Myungjun was watching. 

He had to touch himself with one hand, to ease the growing erection within his pants. The other snaked up Myungjun’s leg until he felt thick thighs.

He stretched a finger up toward Myungjun’s ass, but then the hunter put the knife to his throat.

“I’ll slice it,” he gasped, still thrusting into Bin’s mouth. Bin looked up at him. Myungjun looked so pretty when he was turned on. He was sweaty and struggling to get a breath in and had gorgeous eyes, glazed over from his erotic desires. “Don’t touch me or-or try to get blood out of me or I’ll slice your neck.”

Bin moved off of Myungjun with a small _ pop _. He had to explain a few things. “I can’t get blood from your asshole with just my finger, love. Though, I suppose if you were to turn around, I could suck the blood from one of your cute, supple cheeks—”

“Oh my god,” Myungjun fussed, and he tugged at Bin’s hair. “I’m almost ready to cum. Just suck me off so we can finish this and I can kill you.”

“I’d love to,” Bin said. He used his hand, instead, to pump at Myungjun’s erection while he played with his own. “You’re so cute, though. Have I told you that?”

“Just—”

“Yes, I know. I’ll make you cum, no worries. I’d love you to cum on my face, though. Imagine how hot that would be, me dripping in your juices. Wouldn’t you like that? I’d be marked as a filthy slut who couldn’t help but suck your cock in the middle of the night, like some whore you find on the streets, and you could stare at your mess and be proud, and I’d take a finger and wipe it off and then suck on my finger—”

He got no further. Myungjun did cum, and he made sure to cum on Bin’s face, as Bin had teased. Bin kept pumping and jerking until he was certain he got every last bit.

He followed through with his fantasies, sucking at whatever he could get onto his hand. It tasted good. It tasted sweet, as he thought Myungjun would, though Bin wondered if he was _ really _ tasting garlic, or his mind was just playing tricks on him. Regardless, it was completed, and Bin laughed as he watched Myungjun pull up his pants again. 

“If I had known imagery alone could make you cum, I would’ve talked dirty a long time ago.”

Myungjun rolled his eyes and pushed each arm through a suspender. “I would’ve killed you long ago, then.”

Bin nodded. “Yes. So it’s a good thing we waited for tonight. I got to drink blood, and I got to drink cum. It’s been wonderful.”

“Are you ready to die, then?”

Bin stood up. He decided he wouldn’t wash his face until he returned home. He would keep whatever he couldn’t consume on his skin as a testament to Myungjun’s lewd nature, and as a reminder to himself how fun tonight had been.

“I’m not, actually. I have yet to write my will.”

“You have no family to will stuff to, bastard.”

Bin smirked. “No, but I’d like _ you _ to get it all. Someone who makes me feel this way deserves all of my belongings, don’t you think?”

His candor was likely what saved his life this time. Myungjun froze, eyes wide, and opened his mouth as if to ask something. Nothing came out.

Bin leaned forward to plant a quick kiss onto Myungjun’s cheek. “You’re so cute,” he said, repeating his earlier statement. “Find me again sometime, Myungjun. I eat about once a week and I’d love for you to accompany me next time I dump a corpse.”

He tested his limits. One more kiss, and then he turned and walked away. He chose not to run, knowing Myungjun would not follow.

And Myungjun did not.

That night, admiring himself in the mirror he had created, Bin touched some cum that had gotten close to his hairline. “Myungjun is so naughty,” he murmured to himself. His reflection was smiling too much. He pinched at his skin, but all that did was make him giggle. “Myungjun is so _ cute _.”

He really had a fondness for that tiny vampire hunter.

* * *

Myungjun met him often after that. Once a week near the Hudson River, Myungjun would appear as Bin disposed of a corpse. Most of the time, he demanded the same thing: “Blow me and then allow me to kill you.”

Only one of those things ever came to pass, and Bin was just fine with that. He didn’t try to eat from Myungjun’s body, and Myungjun didn’t try to murder him. Their relationship was purely sexual, nothing more, but Bin preferred that to anything else.

Sometimes, they switched it up. Sometimes, Myungjun would suck _ him _ off, which felt even better than Bin had ever assumed. Myungjun was able to make him feel like a human. 

A dirty, perverted, happy human.

They met again one night. Bin had been waiting with anticipation, the body he had already dumped and vanished down the river. Myungjun normally didn’t take so long, so Bin felt relieved when the vampire hunter finally arrived.

“I’ve been here for a while,” Bin told him, stepping closer with a smile on his face. He couldn’t stop smiling whenever he saw Myungjun. He wondered if it was a disease of some sorts. “What have you been doing, love?”

Myungjun rolled his eyes. He wore a jacket now, for it was getting chilly. Fall was in the air and the light, summer breeze they once were fond of had turned cold. Myungjun’s jacket, however, was thin and frayed, and Bin hoped it actually kept him warm.

“I don’t want you to suck me off tonight,” Myungjun said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bin blinked. “Oh. That’s fine. I’ve been looking forward to feeling your mouth around my dick, anyway.”

“And I don’t want to suck _ you _ off.”

That was confusing. Why come, then, if not for a blowjob? That was all they did together, and that was all their relationship was supposed to be. Bin cocked his head. “Ah. Are you going to kill me, instead?”

Myungjun rubbed at his arms. So his jacket was useless. Bin felt pity for him. He took off his own jacket and passed it over to Myungjun. “Here. Wear this before you kill me. It’ll keep you warmer.”

“We can go back to my place,” Myungjun suggested, staring at the jacket with distaste. “I have blankets. And a bed.”

The implication was not lost at all on Bin. He smiled wider and asked, “Intercourse, then? I get to ram my dick into your ass?”

“Don’t be crude,” Myungjun snapped. He gestured with his head and added, “If you allow me to kill you afterwards, I can make you a meal. A last supper, if you will. I’ll make sure to add plenty of garlic.”

“Oh, you do know I love a good bribe before my death,” Bin said, and he tossed his jacket over Myungjun’s shoulders. “Lead the way, love.”

They walked side-by-side down the dark streets of New York City. It was a long walk, full of many turns that left Bin confused. They were leaving behind the nice portions of New York and turning instead to where the poor, downtrodden immigrants lived. Bin, for all his years of life, had little intelligence, he supposed, for he asked suddenly, “Myungjun, do you live in a tenement?” 

Myungjun glanced over at Bin. “Where else would I live?” he countered. When Bin offered no response, save for a little hum of surprise, Myungjun asked, “Where do _ you _ live?”

“Further north,” Bin responded, “Past the square.”

“Oh. Rich, then?” Myungjun huffed and wrapped himself tighter. His footsteps slowed until he came to a halt. Bin stopped with him and looked over at Myungjun inquisitively. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go to my place, then.”

It was an odd change of demeanor. Bin was confused, once more lacking in intelligence, before he recognized the signs of embarrassment and humiliation. Bin looked around them, at the squalor buildings and run-down apartments. “Myungjun, are you nervous to show me where you live?”

“No, especially since I’ll just kill you there.” Myungjun began to walk again, briskly, hiding his face within Bin’s jacket. “Hurry along, now. I want you dead by morning.”

Bin smiled. He remained to Myungjun’s side, and said, “I don’t mind if you live in a tenement. Besides, like you said, you’ll kill me after we fuck, so it makes no difference to me.”

“I’m more impressed that you _ don’t _ live in a tenement.” They had reached Myungjun’s apartment. Myungjun unlocked his door and opened it. The interior of the apartment was dark, but Bin could already tell that it was in bad shape. He was looking straight at the small bed shoved into a corner, with a stove right beside it and a table in the middle of the room with a broken leg. There was no chair; Bin assumed Myungjun ate while sitting on his bed. 

As Myungjun lit a lantern, Bin shut the door behind them and explained, “Living for a couple hundred years helps one to acquire a fortune, and that money is spent on luxuries. Though I am an immigrant, I’ve made a name for myself in the finer neighborhoods.”

“Good for you,” Myungjun muttered. He worked on lighting the stove, Bin’s jacket still wrapped tightly around his body. “Most immigrants can only dream.” Once the stove was lit, Myungjun shut its door and waited for the room the heat up. “Vampire hunting doesn’t bring in a profit. I work odd jobs in order to make more money, but most of it is used to pay off the monthly immigration tax.”

Bin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Immigration tax?”

“Yeah. It’s for immigrants. The landlords around here charge extra if we’re immigrants.”

“How _ much _ extra?” 

Myungjun paused to think, then shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure. I don’t speak English, after all. And I’m the only Korean here, so there’s no one who can translate. I don’t want to be kicked out, though, so I pay whatever I can.” Myungjun removed his jacket once he deemed the room to be warm enough, and he sat on the bed. “Once I kill you, though, the policeman at the station will give me a sizeable bonus. He requires us to bring in the head of the vampires we kill and we get paid for that.”

Bin was aware of a hierarchy of hunters, but he didn’t know it went up to the policemen. He stored it away in his memory for future use. He did feel bad for Myungjun, for he knew the landlords were lying; there was no such thing as an immigration tax.

He couldn’t ask anything else, however, for Myungjun was already working on removing his shirt. “Come on,” he ordered. “Let’s fuck and be done with each other.”

Bin had yet to see Myungjun fully in the nude, but he was already turned on from the masterpiece before him. Myungjun was small and cute, but as he leaned back, naked and vulnerable, Bin realized how incredibly sexy he was.

He made quick work of his own clothes, tossing them on the table to pick up later, and he climbed onto the bed. Myungjun kissed him softly, and Bin responded with much more force. He felt breathless as his tongue slid across Myungjun’s, as his hands explored the bare skin below him. Myungjun was tasty and delectable. Bin kissed him all over, leaving deep marks and bruises, before he grabbed Myungjun’s waist and flipped him around. 

“Head in the pillow,” he growled, voice tainted with an animalistic lust. Myungjun gasped, but otherwise did as requested. Bin took the time to admire Myungjun’s ass, to rub his hands all along it, to kiss and nip and squeeze it.

But soon he was too needy. He had to stop his teasing and his loving. He had to fuck Myungjun as hard as he could.

He prepared the boy first. Myungjun didn’t seem tight, which made Bin scoff. “Did you prepare yourself for me already?” he asked, stuffing three fingers into Myungjun’s entrance. Myungjun was stiff at first, but soon relaxed as Bin massaged the inside of him. “Did you stick your own fingers in here and pretend it was me?”

“Don’t say stupid shit,” Myungjun breathed out, rocking his hips back into Bin’s fingers. “Just fuck me.”

Bin finger-fucked him first, searching and exploring until he was able to find that sweet spot. Myungjun’s breath hitched, and the more Bin abused it, the more Myungjun cried out into his pillow.

“Please,” Myungjun begged, turning his head slightly to stare up at Bin. “Please, I want _ you _.”

_ I want you _, Myungjun had said.

_ I like you _, Bin’s brain heard.

_ I love you _, Bin’s heart desired.

He shook off his own stupid and romantic notions and pulled his fingers from Myungjun. He gave the human a moment or two to adjust before he lined himself up to Myungjun’s entrance. Slowly, steadily, he pushed himself in, listening to the delightful sounds Myungjun made. Never before had he harnessed reactions that affected _ him _ so much. Usually, having sex was a quick pleasure, something he easily forgot about an hour or two later. This, though, was making him overly excited. He wanted to remember everything about it forever; he wanted to remember the location and the ugly tenement. He wanted to remember the ecstasy on Myungjun’s face. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, holding still for a moment. “Can I move yet?”

He had never before shown such courtesy to one of his partners. Usually, he had little regard for their situation. His own words made him surprised, then; why did he care so much about how Myungjun felt? He was just here for a quick fuck, and then to possibly kill him. 

Myungjun took a deep breath and nodded his head. “Move,” he mumbled. “You're...ah, god, you’re bigger than I imagined.”

Bin thrust forward. Myungjun jolted underneath him, and Bin asked, “Did you think I was going to have a small dick?”

“Yes. Usually, idiotic cowards have small dicks. I, _ ah _, I guess you’re an exception to that rule.”

Myungjun always made him smile and laugh and feel joy inside. Bin couldn’t hold back a grin as he jerked his hips upwards again, driving his erection deeper into Myungjun. Myungjun moaned into his pillow, gripping at bedsheets with clenched fists.

“You’re very rude, love. It’s a wonder you’ve managed to bag a guy as handsome as myself.”

Myungjun scoffed. He seemed ready to respond, but Bin bent over him and thrust in harder and faster. His movements caused Myungjun to cry out instead, to bite down on the pillow, and to move his hips backward in an effort to obtain as much pleasure as possible.

Skin slapped against skin. Their breaths and moans filled the air. It was quite lewd, but Bin enjoyed the sound. Hearing his dick sliding in and out of Myungjun’s ass made him feel proud, and he didn’t want this night to end.

However, he could feel himself nearing completion. Myungjun, too, was stammering out, “I-I’m going to cum, B-Bin, let me cum, _ please _.”

Bin reached underneath Myungjun to grasp a hold of his cock. It was leaking already, swollen and twitching in his hands. He gave it a gentle squeeze. Myungjun whimpered before thrusting into Bin’s hand. “St-Stop!” he begged. “Bin, jerk me off. Rub me hard. Ju-Just let me come.”

“Let me do it first,” Bin growled into Myungjun’s ear.

It didn’t take that long for Bin to cum. He lost his rhythm as he rode out the orgasm, grunting and panting and keeping a tight hold onto Myungjun’s cock. The human underneath him pleaded and whined, and finally Bin began to jerk Myungjun off.

Cum shot out, fast and hot, into Bin’s hands. He let it happen, watching in fascination as Myungjun became more and more compliant. 

Finally, both of them spent, they laid down in the bed. Myungjun struggled to catch his breath, and Bin wiped sweat off his forehead.

“Wasn’t that amazing?” he asked, after a few moments of silence.

Myungjun gave a noncommittal hum. When he sat up, his eyes were harsh again, and he smacked Bin’s ass. “Get out of my bed,” he fussed. “I’ll get you some garlic and then stab a wooden stake into your heart while you’re eating. It’s a good way to die.”

Bin groaned as Myungjun shoved him to the floor. “You’re not very kind to your sexual partners,” he complained. “See, before I kill my own partners, I make them feel as if they’re the most valued person on the planet.”

Myungjun stood, making certain to step on Bin as he walked to his bundle of clothes. “And I will, by making you garlic. What would you like? Garlic potatoes? I’ve got potatoes.”

Bin, too, began to put back on his own clothes. He wiped the cum off on Myungjun’s bed, much to the man’s dismay.

“What the fuck are you doing with your filthy hands?” Myungjun snapped. Half-dressed, with his pants on haphazardly and only one suspender up, he rifled around the room for his silver knife.

By the time he found it, though, Bin took his leave, giggling to himself all the while.

He knew this certainly wouldn’t be the last time he engaged in lewd activities with that vampire hunter.

* * *

And so their liaisons continued. Rather than meet at the river, however, Bin preferred to make his way to Myungjun’s house after having disposed of a body. He liked having a bed to fuck on, and he liked the cozy, rundown atmosphere. While Myungjun did make him leave the moment they both reached completion, it was still far better of an experience than any late-night-Hudson-River-blowjob would ever be. Bin’s favorite moments were when Myungjun would feed him garlic whilst they engaged in such lewd activities. Bin would feel like he was suffocating, but that just meant Myungjun’s physical touch burned even more.

One night as the fucked, someone pounded on Myungjun’s door.

Bin, already thrusting up into the human, glanced over at the door and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Now, who could that be at this hour?”

Myungjun pushed Bin off of him with a grunt. “Landlord,” he mumbled, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Hide under the bed.”

Bin wrinkled his nose and peered down into the dark space. He could spot cobwebs and dead bugs. “It’s unclean. I really cannot be down there.”

“You had your tongue up my ass. You’re in no position to complain about the _ unclean _,” Myungjun snapped, pulling his pants up. The landlord knocked again, and Myungjun took a deep breath. “For fucks’ sake, Bin, at least hide yourself!”

The stigma of being gay was worse than that of being an immigrant. The stigma of being a gay immigrant was something Myungjun would never recover from. Bin refused to allow Myungjun such a horrid life, and so he sighed loudly before rolling onto the floor and under the bed.

Once Myungjun pulled on his shirt, he answered the door, looking delightfully aroused. Bin wondered if the landlord would be able to tell.

The landlord didn’t seem to notice or care, though. Instead, he snapped, “You’re late on your immigration tax.”

Bin rolled his eyes. The _ fake _ immigration tax. He had failed to warn Myungjun previously of the scam, and so it hurt his heart when he saw Myungjun struggle to make sense of the English words offered to him.

“Im...immigration?” he repeated, his accent heavy and his tone confused.

“_ Mon. Ney _,” the landlord emphasized, snapping his fingers in Myungjun’s face. “I swear, you damn Orientals are all the same.”

Myungjun seemed to understand _ money _. He gasped and nodded his head before hurrying over to the one cabinet he had up on the wall, hanging loosely by rusted nails. His money, it seemed, was hidden within a few different cracked mugs. He took out some and tried his best to count. “How...how much?” he asked, glancing nervously toward the landlord.

“Two dollars.”

Myungjun blanched. He looked at his money again. “Ah…” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I...I don’t have.”

The landlord, with no hesitation, snatched away all of the money Myungjun had laid out. Myungjun made a noise of displeasure, but otherwise didn’t attempt to fight him on it. The landlord held up a menacing figure toward Myungjun. “You’d better have four dollars next week,” he ordered, “or I’m kicking you out.”

He shut the door. Myungjun stared at his cupboard, devoid now of his money, before closing it gently.

Bin crawled out from under the bed. He flicked a dead bug from his hair. “See? I told you it was dirty.”

“Shut up,” Myungjun mumbled, without any of his usual bite or mirth. He was clearly distraught. He sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around himself. “What was that last bit he said? It sounded threatening.”

“Just that if you don’t have four dollars by next week, he’s kicking you out of your house,” Bin replied, pulling his own pants on. “Myungjun, I think a bug crawled on my dick.”

Myungjun didn’t answer. He was thinking, calculating, trying his best to devise a way to come up with that much money within seven days. Bin watched him curiously as he dressed, gauging the human’s mood based on the expressions clear on his face. _ Fear. Desperation. Misery. _

“I don’t suppose I will be able to fuck you any longer tonight, hm?”

“I earn money by doing odd jobs and killing vampires,” Myungjun muttered. “The reason I’m so behind on payments to my landlord is because of _ you _. I haven’t killed you, and I’ve spent all of my time gallivanting with you rather than search for other vampires.” He groaned and ran his fingers through messy hair. “If I killed you a while ago, none of this would’ve happened.”

Bin nodded his head in agreement. “Each time we meet, you almost kill me, though. I’m always impressed with your initiative. The garlic is a surprising touch.”

“You _ like _ garlic,” Myungjun snapped. He stood from his bed again and gestured for Bin. “Come on. I really _ will _ kill you this time, and I have garlic. You like garlic. Your death will be painless because of that.”

“Ah. Garlic does cause me pain, though. It’s a good pain, and a pain I very much enjoy.”

“Then you won’t object.”

However, Bin escaped, as per usual, by slipping out the door while Myungjun remedied the food. This time, Bin didn’t laugh or giggle or else think of how precious Myungjun was. All that was on his mind was the downtrodden look on Myungjun’s face, and the fact that all of his money was gone.

Bin was determined to make things right.

“It’s only so we can go back to fucking as we used to,” he muttered to himself the next evening as he traversed the Lower East Side, sidestepping what looked to be human feces. He certainly wasn’t doing anything for Myungjun’s wellbeing, heavens no. He wasn’t kind enough for that. He still had plans to kill him one day.

But there was no point in killing Myungjun if the blood was from a starving corpse. That would be icky.

He looked through town. He stayed hidden, out of sight, and yet made certain he checked all of the nicer establishments among the tenements.

The landlord’s was easy enough to find. His house clearly showed the disparity between what his tenants were making and what he was taking from them. Bin shook his head with disappointment as he knocked — nay, _ pounded _ —on the front door.

The landlord answered, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Another Chinese man,” he complained, looking Bin up and down. “Go back to the railroads.”

“That’s not very kind of you to say,” Bin scolded him. He pushed the man into the house, then entered after him. The door shut. “Now I don’t feel bad at _ all _ about what I shall do to you.”

He wasn’t even that hungry, but the best way to kill a man was to drink all of his blood. Bin drained the body dry, celebrating with delight when the landlord finally stopped twitching under his grasp.

The landlord was stuffed under the bed, his dried-up corpse fitting perfectly. It was payback, Bin told himself as he stole whatever money he could find in the house before setting it on fire. Payback for making _ Bin _ hide under a bed, with those disgusting bugs and dust and cobwebs. It was an eye for an eye, so Bin continued to tell himself, even as he arrived to Myungjun’s small tenement the following week.

Myungjun eyed him suspiciously. “The landlord died a few days ago,” he greeted.

Bin slipped in through the door with a small hum. “How so?”

“I don’t know. His house burned down. The body is too burned for them to tell, but they say it looks as if he died _ before _ the house burned down. Long before the house burned down.”

“How curious. Their science must be off. Medical examiners are not entirely smart, love.” Bin took off his shirt. “Why not ride me today? I’m exhausted and quite full, so I’d prefer if you did the work.”

Myungjun pursed his lips. “Someone left money in my house. I’m not sure how they got in. It was a huge envelope of money.”

Bin gave a faux gasp and then pointed at the bed. “We can solve this after we fuck.”

Myungjun was hiding a smile. Bin could see it on his face. “There were also directions to the home of a vampire. I thought it was a joke, but I found a vampire at the residence and was able to use the element of surprise to kill him. I’ve received a hefty sum for it.”

“Amazing. This mystery keeps getting curiouser and curiouser.”

Myungjun neared the bed. “What are the chances you think I will find another address for another vampire in the near future?”

Bin couldn’t help but gently kiss Myungjun’s cheek. As he rubbed the kiss in, he whispered, “I think the chances are rather high.”

* * *

Revealing the locations of vampires was of no concern to Bin. They held no relation to each other, and they held no affection for each other. All they really shared in common was the need for blood in place of regular food, and Bin preferred it if the other vampires were dead so that he might remain in the shadows.

He told as much to Myungjun as they lay together, Bin smoking on a cigarette and Myungjun mapping out the home of another vampire.

“Still, I would think you’d have much more loyalty in your fellow species. I would never allow you to mercilessly kill humans.”

“Ah, but you do,” Bin responded with a grin. “You don’t kill me, thus allowing me to kill more.”

Myungjun pursed his lips and thought for a few seconds before saying, “I keep you alive so you can give me the names of other vampires. It brings down the total number of humans killed. One less vampire means one less death.”

“And so I kill instead.”

“I’m only allowing you to live right now because you’re giving me valuable information,” Myungjun argued.

Bin’s grin was devious. He ran a finger down Myungjun’s spine and murmured, “Of course. For my _ valuable _information. Right.”

Myungjun smacked him with his pen.

Bin liked being alive, however, and he liked the genuine smile that would appear on Myungjun’s face with each new envelope of cash he had. He was becoming known to other vampire hunters, too, or so he excitedly told Bin one night as Bin struggled to remove Myungjun’s suspenders.

“Some of the vampire hunters have been talking to me, Bin! Or, trying to talk to me, but most of them don’t speak Korean. In fact, none of them speak Korean. There’s a lack of Korean vampire hunters, did you know that?”

“Mm.” Bin nodded. “Myungjun, move your arm, the suspender is stuck.”

Myungjun did as Bin asked. “But one of the men, he speaks Chinese. I can understand Chinese. So I can speak back to him, and he translates a lot for me. Some of the men are apparently asking for my secret—”

“Why the hell do you wear suspenders all the time?”

Myungjun blinked. “Pants are too large,” he commented, then continued, “and the men that don’t ask for my secret are inquiring about the tools I use. I don’t tell them, obviously, that I have an informant in the midst. My god, Bin, you’re practically a spy! Would I be a double agent?”

“I’m the double agent,” Bin grumbled, tugging down Myungjun’s pants. “Shall I suck you off? You’re too talkative to suck _ me _ off, which makes me think you won’t be a good fuck today because you won’t shut up about the—”

Myungjun laughed suddenly, bright and clear and loud. He grabbed Bin’s hand, too, and exclaimed, “Bin, thank you!”

Bin was finally able to really look at Myungjun, to stare at the joy written on his face, the excitement shining in his eyes. He was beautiful, like some sort of angel sent down from heaven. And he chose to keep Bin alive, and Bin knew it wasn’t solely for the names and locations. Before that, he never made a concentrated effort to _ really _ murder Bin.

He was too much. Bin didn’t want to fall for him. He cleared his throat and asked, “Why don’t you stuff garlic in my mouth and allow me to choke while you take me from behind?”

Myungjun blinked. “You want _ me _ to fuck _ you? _”

“Sure, why not. With what little dick you have, sure.”

Myungjun was all too eager to stuff Bin’s mouth full of garlic.

Bin had to remind himself, multiple times, that though he might (_ might _ , he stressed) have some sort of affection for Myungjun, Myungjun would never feel the same way about him. Myungjun was a vampire hunter. Myungjun was _ using _ him. That was all their relationship was.

Still, he found himself growing happier throughout the days, and even as he dumped his newest victim into the Hudson River, he couldn’t help but hum a little bit.

“Now, then,” he muttered to the floating body, pulling gloves back onto his hands. “Myungjun awaits me.”

He turned, and that’s when he caught the whiff of garlic. It was a strong scent, out in the middle of the forestry by the river, and at first he thought he was mistaken. But walking forward a few more steps proved his nose was correct, and he felt his heart race.

“Myungjun?” he called, smiling wide as he peered through the trees. He could detect no movement. Was this a game, then? Was Myungjun bribing him with garlic? He allowed his nose to be his guide, leading him through the trees as the scent became overwhelming.

He was practically drooling when he found the garlic, a small bulb pinned against a tree. He reached out for it, but then stopped.

Myungjun had never really _ pinned _ garlic to a tree before. He had certainly used garlic to draw Bin close, but it would be close to _ him _. It wouldn’t be pinned alone to a random tree.

He heard something behind him, but before he could turn around, he felt pain in his back.

Someone had sliced a silver knife against his skin, and he stumbled forward with a loud cry.

He hadn’t been hurt in a long while, since he had first met Myungjun. This was worse, somehow, maybe because it was across his back and maybe because it was meant deliberately to kill.

He turned, finally, panting for breath and struggling to stay upright.

It was an Asian man, tall and middle-aged, with a scrappy beard and an ugly scar against his cheek.

He held a knife in one hand and a wooden stake in the other. 

“Fucking vampire.” He spat onto Bin’s face. Bin wrinkled his nose in disgust and moved up a shaking hand to wipe away the saliva.

The man was Chinese, from the language he spoke, and also a vampire hunter.

He put two and two together rather easily. Myungjun had mentioned before having spoken with a Chinese vampire hunter. He would translate for Myungjun what the other vampire hunters would say. They seemed to get along well, from Myungjun’s stories.

Which meant Myungjun had likely told him about Bin’s addiction to garlic.

Whether it was an accidental slip or not, Bin felt the pain spread to his heart. It felt similar to that of betrayal, somehow. He wasn’t anyone special to Myungjun’s heart, and he knew as much. They were far from lovers. Bin fucked other people, too, victims and random prostitutes or adulterous humans. There was no need for Myungjun to show loyalty to him. After all, Bin never showed loyalty to his own kind. Why should a vampire hunter show loyalty to a vampire?

The Chinese man was closing in with the wooden stake. Bin dodged it, wobbling to the side and grunting with the effort it took to do so. When the man attacked for a third time, Bin stumbled and fell. His head spun. He didn’t want to get up. His whole body hurt.

He couldn’t tell if most of the pain was physical or emotional.

Regardless, he awaited the final blow. No use in fighting back if he would only prolong his death. The silver had weakened him, and the surprise had worked in the hunter’s favor. Bin closed his eyes and readied his body for death to finally grasp it.

Death never came. Instead, Myungjun’s voice came.

Bin opened his eyes and stared in shock as Myungjun ran forward, breathing harshly. He held out a hand and shook his head. “Yixuan, don’t...don’t kill him!”

The Chinese hunter scoffed and snapped, “You told me to! I can’t believe you’ve kept him alive for this long, anyway! Isn’t it better that he dies?”

Myungjun hurried to stand in front of Bin. He blocked the path; Yixuan couldn’t kill him unless he first killed Myungjun.

And though Myungjun had betrayed Bin, Bin didn’t want him dead.

“He’s giving me locations to the other vampires. We should keep him alive.”

“Then if he’s that important, let’s take him to the police. We can keep him in solitary to ensure he doesn’t kill anyone else, and he can give us the names that way.”

Myungjun remained steadfast. “I don’t...I don’t want to do that to him. He’s been helpful to me. I won’t…” He shook his head and said, “You can’t take him.”

“So...so you just want to let him go?” Yixuan asked, astonished by Myungjun’s determination. “You told me I could get half of whatever his head would cost, and now you want to let him go? I’ll miss out on a payment!”

“Still...it’s not right of me to kill him after what he’s done to help me.”

“So you’re taking all of the names he gives you and telling me to fuck off, then?” Yixuan’s jaw was tight. He grabbed Myungjun’s shoulder and shoved him aside. “I’m killing him and getting _ all _ the money for it.”

He still held the wooden stake with him. He raised it above his head, eyes glinting with anger, but before he could slam it into Bin’s chest, Myungjun stabbed him.

His silver dagger buried into Yixuan’s back. Yixuan, first taken by surprise, dropped the wooden stake. It rolled harmlessly away from Bin.

Myungjun tore the knife away, and Yixuan fell to his knees. He made a noise of exclamation, a noise of fear, but Myungjun quickly sliced the knife across his neck.

Yixuan fell to the ground, sputtering for a second or two, but then stilled. He made no movement.

Bin could hear Myungjun breathing, still harsh and loud. He spared a glance at the human who couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Yixuan’s dead body.

“I’m in pain,” Bin called out, snapping a finger. “Come, carry me like a babe to my house, please.”

Myungjun didn’t take orders well when they weren’t given in a bedroom setting. He swallowed thickly and mumbled, “I...I killed a fellow vampire hunter.”

“Yes. I saw. Well done.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“You show no loyalty to them. Bravo.” Bin pushed himself onto his elbows and moaned, “Myungjun, love, I’m hurt. Help me.”

“I killed him for _ you _.”

Bin nodded. “And you also told him my weakness and where I would be just to share a bit of money. I don’t think you’re loyal to me, either.” He hummed and added, “But, you _ did _ save my life. You almost caused my demise, but you saved me in the end.”

Myungjun sighed and bent beside Bin, now ignoring the dead body. “I can’t believe I killed someone to save your ugly ass.”

Bin smirked. “I’m sure you don’t think I’m ugly. I’m very handsome. The old lady down the hall from me said I was very handsome. She asked why I do not yet have a wife. I told her it’s coming along. And, look! It is! My future-bride killed a man for me. God, how sweet. It’s true love after all.”

Myungjun smacked Bin’s shoulder and Bin held back a cry of pain. “I shouldn’t have done that, you know. I don’t even like you.”

“Of course not.” Bin held up a hand toward Myungjun. “Help. I have a hole in my back.”

“Oh, fuck off. Vampires heal wounds quickly. You’ll be fine within no time.” He edged closer to Bin and murmured, “We’re staying right here until you heal, and when you do, you will drink Yixuan’s blood and dump him in the river so no one suspects a thing.”

Bin liked being close to Myungjun. Myungjun had betrayed him, but Myungjun had saved him in the end. He smiled and leaned onto Myungjun, then said, “I’m full, love.”

“Too bad.”

“Well, if I drink his blood, I’d like something to wash it down. Go fetch me the garlic he nailed to that tree.”

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“But you love me.”

Myungjun scoffed, but didn’t respond, and Bin smiled cheerfully as they sat there together.

He loved Myungjun, too, and he would now allow himself to think such a thought.

* * *

Myungjun didn’t often kick him out of the house after they had sex.

Sometimes, he _ would _ cook a nice meal for Bin. Sometimes he would have a stew prepared, or else some fish and potatoes out warming over the furnace. Sometimes he would supply Bin with alcohol; red wine most often, for Myungjun claimed it looked similar to blood.

And then sometimes neither would get out of bed. Myungjun would curl up underneath the covers, shivering slightly in the cold, and Bin would wrap his arms around the smaller body in an attempt to warm him up.

“It’s domestic,” Bin had murmured one morning when they woke up. “Isn’t it domestic, Myungjun?”

Myungjun, his face flushed from embarrassment and his eyes averted, had cleared his throat and snapped, “Get out of my bed.”

They both became more accustomed to such a situation, however, and soon they never needed to comment on it. It was something that always happened, and something that Bin always looked forward to.

He awoke once, in the middle of the night, to darkness. Myungjun was curled against his bare chest, one hand gripping the bedsheets and the other tossed across Bin’s stomach. Bin blinked blearily for a few seconds before smiling and nuzzling his nose into Myungjun’s hair.

Myungjun smelled of smoke.

It was an odd smell, and not one he had smelled on Myungjun before. Myungjun didn’t seem to smoke often, if at all, and Bin hadn’t smoked in a couple days, so _ he _ wouldn’t have spread the smell. As far as he was aware, too, Myungjun hadn’t smelled like smoke when they went to bed.

He picked his head up and sniffed again, then realized the smoke wasn’t coming from Myungjun.

It was creeping in from under the door and through the window. He could hear something burning, the sound of cackling fire from outside, so he pushed Myungjun aside in order to check the window above the bed.

Pulling back the curtain revealed a fire.

“Oh, god,” he hissed, and he shook Myungjun awake. “Get your pants on,” he ordered, grabbing quickly for their clothes. If they had to, they’d go out naked, but he certainly didn’t want for neighbors to figure out that Myungjun was homosexual.

Myungjun was groggy and moved slowly. “What’s going on?” he yawned, pulling his pants up.

Bin was already dressed. He grabbed Myungjun’s shirt and stuck it on over his head, never minding that the arms weren’t in correctly. There was no time. The fire was already burning the house, and if they wasted another minute, Myungjun would die.

“There’s a fire,” Bin snapped, rushing to the door. He saw flames licking at the wood and cursed. “Window. Let’s go through the window.”

Myungjun still didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. He stretched and asked, “What’s wrong with the door?”

Bin had no time to explain. He grabbed a big pot resting on the stove and smashed it into the glass. The window shattered and Myungjun exclaimed, “Bin, what the _ fuck _ are you doing?!”

The fire was trying to creep through the window. They had mere seconds.

“Come on, love,” Bin mumbled. He picked Myungjun up and ordered, “Wrap your arms and legs around me. It’s going to be hot as hell for a second, but I’ll get you out.”

Myungjun did as asked. He had fear in his eyes; confusion must make their condition all the more terrifying. Bin ignored his fear for the time being, however, and he quickly scrambled out of the window with Myungjun wrapped around his body.

The flames were hot. It leapt up at him, trying its best to burn him along with the house, but Bin could not be burned. Myungjun could, though, and as Bin tried his best to traverse the fire, he heard Myungjun coughing and gasping for any bit of oxygen the fire had yet to take.

Bin finally managed to stumble onto dry ground, ground without fire. He took Myungjun far enough from the house and then sat him down. One of Myungjun’s sleeves had caught ablaze, and Bin made quick work of putting it out, slapping at his arm in order to ensure it didn’t burn him.

Myungjun’s face was blackened from the fire. He coughed again, and Bin sighed. “You breathed in too much smoke,” he fussed. “I should’ve told you to keep your mouth shut.”

Myungjun didn’t look at him, though. Myungjun stared at his house. The fire had overtaken it while Bin was escaping. The roof looked as if it had already caved in, and the fire ate away at the rest of the structure. It was spreading to other tenements, and Bin watched for a few seconds as a large family ran from one of the houses.

“My...My house,” Myungjun whispered hoarsely. He coughed again and ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, god, Bin, my house.”

Bin sat with him and they watched it burn. Myungjun said nothing else, not even when the firemen came to put down the flames, not when the morning sun began to rise and shine light on the ruined buildings.

Bin was the one who asked questions to the firemen. He answered their questions, too, with a bit of embellishment. 

“I am friends with this man, as we’re both Korean,” Bin said, in English, when they asked why he was in the Lower East Side. “And I was tired, so I planned to spend the night in his...tenement. I woke to the smell of fire, and I saw smoke creeping in through the door.”

The fireman he spoke with nodded his head and gestured at the house. “It was started deliberately, we think. Looks like someone spread kerosene around the house.” He began to walk away, but Bin grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What about the homes that were burned? What will the people do?”

The fireman shrugged. “Don’t know,” he mumbled, and then he left.

Bin didn’t know why he expected anything different. These were poor people, immigrants, the lowest of the low in their society. Of course there would be no help for them. 

He made his way back to Myungjun, who sat in the cold, shivering and staring at the rubble that used to be his home. Bin sat beside him again and sighed. “My coat burned in the fire, else I would offer it to you. My hat, too, and my gloves.”

Myungjun wrapped his arms around his chest. “What did the fireman say?”

“Oh, just that it was definitely arson. And because it started at your house, it was someone that was out to kill _ you _.”

Myungjun pursed his lips in thought. “I don’t really have any enemies,” he swore, but then drew a quick breath. “Maybe they know I killed Yixuan.”

“I sucked out his blood, though, so his body should be...ruined. It should be hard to tell.”

“Not if there’s obvious knife wounds on his body. The other hunters were aware that we spoke together; what if he told one of them that I had an insider leading me to other vampires?”

It was possible. In fact, it was the most likely scenario. Bin furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Perhaps I can figure that out. I know of a man who works for the government, and he could look into whether or not the police have uncovered Yixuan’s body.” Bin rubbed Myungjun’s hair and said, “Until then, I should make sure you did not breathe in too much of that smoke. You don’t want to die from asphyxiation, you know.”

Myungjun wiped soot from his face. His eyes were red-rimmed. Bin wondered if he had been crying. However, he gave no indication of any sadness or pain, and instead chose to say, “You _ like _ suffocating, though.”

“Well, I do, but like I said, I’m not a normal vampire.”

Myungjun nodded his head. He had no smart, witty comeback. It hurt Bin’s heart to see him so downtrodden.

“Let’s go to my place,” Bin said, standing up and helping Myungjun to stand, too. “I’ll get you fixed you up there, and my government friend lives in the same building.”

Myungjun stood. “Then where shall I go?” he asked.

Bin smirked, taking Myungjun’s hand within his own and rubbing it in an effort to warm him up. “Well, it would be _ domestic _if you stayed with me. I wouldn’t object, I mean.”

Myungjun held back laughter, and Bin’s smirk turned into a grin. “I take that as an agreement.”

He was happy Myungjun’s house burned down, for now they could see each other every single day.

He liked that idea.

* * *

It was Dongmin, that pretty, pretty man from one floor above, who confirmed that the police had uncovered Yixuan’s body.

“Why did you want to know, anyway?” he asked them, curious, as he finished off the tea Bin had poured.

Myungjun, sitting nearby, shifted uncomfortably, but Bin was far more used to weaseling his way out of situations. “He was a friend to Myungjun. We had our suspicions that he had died, but we hoped it would not be true. Unfortunately, it appears he has succumbed to a terrible fate. Ah, what a pity. My heart goes out for him.”

Dongmin was still a little inquisitive, but Bin claimed to have a headache and managed to quickly usher him from the apartment space.

Myungjun sighed and poured himself some more tea. “So I guess that’s confirmation, too, that it was the vampire hunters who attempted to burn me alive, correct?”

“Seems to be that way,” Bin agreed, tapping his fingers across the tabletop. “Which means, Myungjun, you must be extra careful when you go out.”

“If you’re going to trap me in here, I might as well leave,” Myungjun snapped. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to let those bastards threaten me into hiding. I can fight better than most of them, anyway. I’ve captured more vampires than the rest of them have.”

Bin nodded his head, and asked, “Did you capture any in Korea?”

“A few,” Myungjun replied. “But many have started immigrating to America, just like you. There’s more rural areas in America. It’s a larger country, a _ newer _ country, and so it’s easier to survive in America. So when the vampire numbers in Korea started dwindling, I came over here. I was thinking of starting out in New York and then traversing elsewhere.” He pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. “But now I have to deal with a group of vengeful vampire hunters. Fantastic.”

Bin knew he would protect Myungjun no matter what. He wouldn’t let some crazy humans kill his _ favorite _ human. That would be ridiculous. 

“Where did you want to go?” he asked quietly, staring over at Myungjun. When the man glanced over in confusion, Bin smiled and reiterated, “After New York, where did you want to travel to?”

Understanding the question, Myungjun sat back in thought. “I...I don’t know. Just...somewhere different. Maybe the mountains. Or...or the west. It’s crazy out there, I’ve heard. Or maybe the beach, but...I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Somewhere else. I want to explore America.”

“And kill vampires.”

“That comes with the career,” Myungjun teased.

“Unless you’re immortal, though, you’ll never have enough time to explore _ all _ of America.”

The comment he made was blunt, yet straightforward. As it came from his mouth, it made Bin feel a little bad, but he refused to take it back. 

Myungjun’s reaction was difficult to read at first. He narrowed his eyes and stared down at the table where his teacup lay. Finally, he sighed and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “You’re correct,” he agreed, nodding his head. “Unless I’m immortal, I won’t have enough time to explore all of America.”

Bin smiled. “I can make you immortal.”

“And the catch to that is I’d grow fangs and a desire to suck blood.” Myungjun grimaced. “And that’s not even half as bad as the thought of being immortal with _ you _ my entire life.”

Bin brought a hand up to clutch at his chest. “Ouch,” he murmured. “I’m hurt, love.”

Myungjun snorted, but otherwise said nothing on the subject. They didn’t bring it up again that night, but as they fucked, Bin couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The Myungjun beneath his body would one day grow old and frail and weak and die.

The Myungjun he kissed so desperately would one day move and change and likely not want to kiss back.

The Myungjun he thrusted into would be gone within the blink of an eye.

“Human life is so fleeting,” Bin murmured, propped up on his elbows which rest on either side of Myungjun’s head.

Myungjun gasped out as Bin thrusted into him. His hips tried to meet the rhythm Bin had set, but he was too eager. “What?” he asked, breathless and gripping onto the sheets.

Bin pounded harder and Myungjun cried out. “You won’t last forever.”

“God, no-not if you keep doing _ this _, no,” Myungjun stammered out. One hand left the bedsheets and held onto Bin’s arm instead. Bin felt Myungjun’s thumb rub his skin, but his fingers pinched at his skin roughly. “Fuck me faster, Bin, please, treat me like your dirty whore.”

But Myungjun wasn’t his dirty whore. Myungjun was someone he cherished with the entirety of his undead heart. He wanted no other person in his life except for Myungjun. 

When they finished, Bin pulled out and cleaned up the mess they had created. He allowed Myungjun to stay where he was, curled up on Bin’s large bed under expensive sheets.

“What did you mean, Bin, when you spoke of human life being fleeting?”

The question came suddenly. Bin glanced over from where he was folding clothes. Myungjun looked so tiny in that bed. He looked so vulnerable in the nude. He was precious, and Bin loved him.

“Ah, it was nothing,” Bin muttered, turning back to the clothes. “Just wondering who else I’ll have around to fuck when you inevitably get too old to be considered attractive.”

Myungjun huffed and turned his back on Bin. “Like I’d ever be _ un _attractive,” he fussed.

Bin agreed with him, though he said nothing in return. He climbed into bed when he was done cleaning, still silent, and Myungjun pushed him over to _ his _ side of the bed, drawing an invisible line between the two of them. “I don’t want you cuddling with me,” he warned Bin.

Bin didn’t like that rule. “You _ like _ to cuddle,” he argued.

Myungjun reached across the invisible line to smack Bin’s chest. “Cuddle with me and I’ll stuff garlic in your mouth.”

“And _ I _ like garlic. That’s hardly a punishment.”

“You’re a difficult vampire,” Myungjun huffed. He rolled over again, once more showing Bin his back, and Bin stared at the bare skin.

In fact, Bin stared at Myungjun all night. Myungjun was a restless sleeper, sprawling out and tossing around and curling in on himself. Bin couldn’t sleep a wink, choosing instead to stare at the man he had fallen in love with.

Human life was too fleeting, and that frightened him sometimes. He stuck unusually close to Myungjun in the days that followed. When Myungjun asked, he would just respond, “You smell of garlic and I crave garlic.”

He also ate a large quantity of garlic in the days that followed due to that lie. His throat was scratchy more often than not. If it convinced Myungjun that all was well, however, Bin eat as much as he possibly could.

Myungjun still killed vampires, though often with Bin by his side. Bin liked to watch from the shadows as Myungjun, lithe and quick, disabled vampire after vampire.

He didn’t take the heads to the police station as he had done in the past. The chief would no longer pay him, anyway, and Myungjun worried he would walk into a trap should he enter the station. Bin agreed, and did his best to keep Myungjun out of sight from all authority figures.

Once a week, he still went off by himself to find unwilling victims to drink from. He didn’t like Myungjun to be with him on those nights. He preferred to keep Myungjun far from the murders. Besides, if a hunter were to spot him, then they would spot Myungjun, too. No, Myungjun was much better left inside the apartment, locked away from all harm that could ever befall him.

As Bin dumped his latest dinner into the Hudson River, he sighed and removed the hat from his head. “It’s respectful to do this,” he told the body as it floated downstream. “I’m showing respect to the human race.”

To Myungjun, mostly, for Myungjun was the only human who deserved his respect. His heart clenched as he watched the body float further and further away. He couldn’t help but imagine Myungjun in that river instead. Myungjun would be so easy to kill. Though he was a good fighter and usually had the element of surprise on his side, a handful of bigger, stronger men would have no issue in disposing of him.

Bin’s jaw tightened. He stuffed the hat back on his head and spun on his heel to hurry back home.

Human life was too fleeting, and Myungjun’s life was passing by with no hesitation. Bin wanted to be with Myungjun for as long as he could.

His apartment was dark when he entered. He hadn’t thought Myungjun would be asleep yet; if so, he at least should have left a lamp burning in the entryway. That’s what he normally did in an effort to offer Bin some light.

(Bin thought it was very sweet. “It’s _ domestic _,” he had teased Myungjun, who then proceeded to cut up a whole clove of garlic and dump it onto the dish he had made for Bin.)

“Myungjun?” Bin called out, closing the door behind him.

He caught movement from one of the rooms. A figure rushed out at him, and Bin noticed the glint of a knife. 

Dodging in his small entryway was difficult, but Bin managed to make use of the space. It was tight, which meant the figure before him only had one chance to attack. When that failed, Bin didn’t hesitate to punch the man hard in the face.

As the man stumbled backwards, Bin wrenched the knife from his hands, and once he ensured it wasn’t Myungjun, he sliced the man’s neck.

The man fell over, choking on his own blood. Before Bin could step over him, another man came out, this one with a wooden stake.

They were vampire hunters.

Bin felt fear strike. If the hunters had entered his apartment, then that meant they might have already met Myungjun. And if they had already met Myungjun, then they had already killed Myungjun.

“Fuck you!” Bin screeched, using his knife to jab it into the man’s eye. “You _ ass _—”

There was a third man. Bin dug the knife deeper into the second one’s head, listening to him cry out, then shoved him down and focused on the third one. This one was a little less enthusiastic; he seemed nervous, in fact, staring at his fallen comrades and stumbling forward.

Bin wasted no time in killing him. He was the easiest, probably because he was frozen in terror as Bin loomed over him.

No more came. Bin checked behind him, then in the nearest room. He heard no more movement.

He heard no movement whatsoever.

“Myungjun!” Bin called, rushing into his bedroom. “Myungjun, are you alright?”

Myungjun lay on the floor, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. It looked as if he had been crawling at one point, but he was still now. The stillness was what scared Bin. He dropped the knife and fell to his knees beside the human, grasping at his wrist and holding his breath.

There was a heartbeat. It was faint, but Myungjun was just barely alive.

“Myungjun,” Bin whispered, lightly slapping Myungjun’s cheek. “Love, please, please open your eyes. I’m here. Look at me.”

Myungjun took orders well in the bedroom. He always had. And it was no exception right then. He gasped quietly and blinked his eyes open. When he saw Bin, he bit down on a trembling lip.

“Bin,” he gasped out. His voice was hoarse. His teeth were red with blood. 

“I’m here,” Bin said, swallowing a curse. “Myungjun, you’re...you’re going to die.”

Myungjun whimpered.

“I can save you, though. If...if I make you immortal, I can save you. And then you can live and you can probably complain about me for our immortal lives, and I know you’ll still stuff garlic in my mouth.”

Myungjun choked and coughed up blood. His body convulsed and Bin held him tight. “Give me permission,” he begged. “Human life is so fleeting, and I can’t stand it if your life is fleeting. Say yes. Please, say yes.”

The man’s mouth formed words. He didn’t speak as blood dribbled down his chin, but he nodded. He grabbed Bin’s shirt sleeve and nodded desperately.

Bin decided that was permission. He took a deep breath and brought his mouth to Myungjun’s bloodied neck. There, he placed a brief kiss, chaste and sweet, before he dug his fangs into the soft skin.

Myungjun’s blood was better than he had ever imagined it to be. It was delicious and exquisite, but Bin wanted no more than a taste. Myungjun’s blood wasn’t something he desired any longer. Blood meant death, and he didn’t want death for Myungjun.

He drew back after a few gulps, and with the knife that lay on the floor beside him, he made a cut on his own hand. “This will be weird for a few days,” he murmured, though he knew Myungjun was likely not listening. “You’ll be in and out. You’ll be sick. But I’ll be with you. I’ll take care of you. It will be domestic.” He held his hand above Myungjun’s neck and squeezed. A few drops of blood fell onto the holes in Myungjun’s throat. “If you were able to, you would slap me for calling us domestic. I would deserve it, too. I think we’re anything _ but _ domestic.”

Myungjun’s eyes were closing. His grip was loosening. Bin didn’t worry about death any longer, however. 

“Human life is fleeting,” he whispered, running his fingers through Myungjun’s hair. “But our life together has only just begun.”

Myungjun would be fine.

* * *

He stuck by Myungjun’s side day and night. He was with Myungjun through the feverish chills, through the weird hallucinations, through the healing process his body went through. He couldn’t quite remember his own vampiric turn, but he knew it was a difficult time.

He made sure Myungjun was able to drink blood and he made sure Myungjun had a wet rag to ease off the fever and he made sure Myungjun was never alone.

When Myungjun finally woke, Bin was relieved. He smiled widely as Myungjun sat up in bed.

“I’m glad you’re awake, love,” Bin murmured, kissing Myungjun’s cheek. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” Myungjun responded. “Do you have water?”

Bin nodded his head and reached for a glass of water sitting nearby. “Though,” he murmured, passing over the glass, “you might feel better if you drink some blood. I’ll allow you to drink from me for the time being, until you can go out and catch your own blood.”

Myungjun raised his eyebrows. “Ah,” he murmured. He took a sip of water, then handed the glass back to Bin. “So that was no dream, then? Am I really a vampire?”

Bin hoped Myungjun would not be upset. He hoped Myungjun would come to love his new life. “Well, it was the only way to save you,” Bin replied as he set the water back down again. “And you agreed to it. I would feel rather frustrated if you died on me. I think you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

Myungjun licked at his lips, then pushed his tongue around his mouth, likely feeling for fangs. His hands gripped at his bedsheets and he sniffled. “Those hunters tricked me,” he murmured. “I opened the door. I willingly let them in. God, I’m...I’m so stupid.” His chin quivered and he ducked his head. “They stabbed me and now I’m a fucking vampire.”

“It’s not so bad,” Bin comforted him, running his fingers through Myungjun’s messy hair. “Now you have the chance to explore the rest of America. You won’t die as easily. And...well, not to sound too bold, but you’ll be with me for a very long time. That’s such a wonderful prize. As you know, I’m a catch.”

Myungjun nodded his head, but still burst into tears. Bin understood; it was a difficult concept to let sink in. Gone were his mortal days. Gone was his chance for a family. Gone was all normalcy he had come to know. His new life would be far different, and Myungjun hadn’t the chance to have prepared himself. 

Bin kissed Myungjun’s forehead. “Don’t cry, love,” he whispered. “I’m going to walk through your new life with you. You won’t be alone at all. I’ll teach you and guide you and protect you.” And then he finally allowed to say the words he had only ever admitted to himself. It was time to admit to Myungjun, and so he smiled and pressed his lips to Myungjun’s cheek. “I love you.”

Myungjun gave a small jerk. “You...you love me?” he asked through his tears.

Bin refused to take back what he said. He nodded and kissed Myungjun’s eyelid. “I love you very much.”

He kissed Myungjun’s nose next, then his other cheek. His skin tasted of salty tears. Bin smiled. “I will love you forever and ever now.”

Myungjun stayed still, but when Bin drew back, he tried his best to return the smile. “I love... I love you, Bin.”

Bin had hoped. Bin had dreamed. Bin hadn’t _ anticipated _ that response, however, and his smile turned into a grin. He moved from his seat in order to plop himself into bed beside Myungjun. “Does this mean you won’t keep trying to kill me with garlic?”

“Don’t get your hopes up yet,” Myungjun laughed, rubbing at his face and trying to keep his nose from running. “That’s been the best part of our relationship.”

“If garlic is the best part of our relationship, then our relationship is miserable,” Bin argued. 

However, it was garlic that got them together in the first place. Bin had to laugh at that, and he wrapped his arms around Myungjun. “Immortality sounds fun now, doesn’t it?”

Myungjun buried his head into Bin’s chest. He was still crying, but he managed to respond, “As long as I’m with you, it does.”

Bin felt his stupid, undead heart expand three sizes, four sizes, five sizes, and he wondered if it was possible for an undead heart to burst and explode due to love.

His would be the first.

* * *

Their new home had plumbing. Myungjun was amazed with it. He flushed the toilet over and over again, until Bin complained, “The water might run out if you keep doing that.”

“Surely water is an infinite source,” Myungjun argued, but he took his hands off the toilet after the complaint.

The new house was cute and quaint. Bin liked it. Their last place had been an apartment in Boston. It was different from New York, but not exactly. Vermont, however, was much more peaceful. They had opted for a house away from the city. Myungjun claimed he only liked to drink the blood from animals, anyway, so it would be easier for him to feed if they lived in the countryside.

Bin didn’t like to deprive Myungjun of anything, so he readily agreed.

“God, it’s so pretty here,” Myungjun said, dragging Bin over to their new couch. He sat down and pulled Bin into his lap, but then thought better of it and shoved Bin on the floor. “And you’re so fucking heavy.”

Bin pouted. “Don’t be cruel. Most of its muscle.”

Myungjun scoffed, then stretched out across the couch so Bin could not claim a spot. “You need to start getting friendly with the other vampires in town. I’m planning to continue my services by next week.”

“You can do a million different things in America, yet you choose to hunt down your own kind and kill them?”

Myungjun nodded his head proudly. “Which just means more blood for us, right?”

“You’re using my own argument, I see.” Bin grinned. “Fine. More blood for us. I’ll find you some vampires to murder, my sweet dumpling.”

Myungjun smirked and tapped Bin’s nose. “Of course you will. At this point, you live to do my bidding.”

“Mm, don’t I?” Bin stood from the floor and ran a hand across Myungjun’s stomach. “Come. I want to test the shower. I must make sure it will hold when I fuck you hard against the wall.”

Myungjun raised his eyebrows. “Sounds vulgar.”

“You like vulgar.”

With a hum of agreement, Myungjun pushed himself off the couch. They made their way to the staircase, but before ascending, Myungjun exclaimed, “Wait! I forgot something!” 

He rushed into the kitchen, and when he returned, he held garlic in his hand.

“Why do you like choking me so much during sex?” Bin complained, pulling Myungjun up the staircase.

“Why do _ you _ like choking so much during sex?” Myungjun countered.

Bin had no answer to that, and so he just had to deal with Myungjun giggling. “Don’t worry,” his boyfriend said with mirth. “When I kiss you, my throat starts to close up, too.”

“A couple of stupid vampires are we.”

“I don’t think I’d have us any other way.”

Bin glanced behind him. Myungjun smiled softly and nudged Bin up the stairs. “Come on, love, before the water supply runs out on you.”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Jun.” But he did as Myungjun requested, because he _ always _ did as Myungjun requested. He would continue to do as Myungjun requested forever and ever.

Just as he would continue to love Myungjun forever and ever.

**Author's Note:**

> part of me is ashamed but most of me doesn't care lol. i enjoyed writing it and i hope you enjoyed reading it!
> 
> come say hey to me [@thevonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal)! i'll be working solely on general kim from now until it's completed so i will need encouragement! 
> 
> thanks all!


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